Yet Another Useless Search
by aliencatt
Summary: As Dean's deal is comming to an end, Sam knows he is running out of time to let him know just how he feels about him...pre-slash...wincest.


Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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Sam/Dean ... towards end of season three

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Sam looked up from yet another fruitless search on the net as Dean emerged from the bathroom, a cloud of steam billowing around him following into the cooler room. He took a quick breath at the sight of him, still damp and clothed only in the thin motel towel, wrapped tight and low on his hips. He watched brazenly but unobserved as Dean moved to crouch by his duffle, rummaging around with an unsatisfied frown marring his face as the sort after item evaded him.

Standing as Dean did, Sam moved up behind him, deciding they were running out of time for more than just finding a way to break this damned deal. He placed a hand on a bare shoulder, the other on his brother's waist, sliding around to press on the taut belly.

As Dean spoke, the hand on his shoulder slid to trap his arm against his side, holding onto his chest. "Sammy? What ya doin'?"

There were lips pressing against the nape of his neck in answer, feeling their way along to his shoulder and back, travelling just below the hairline. He pulled away but Sam's hands tightened and a near commanded, "Don't."

"Let me go," trying to see over his shoulder, trying to see what the hell had gotten into his brother's head now. Sam just kissed the cheek presented. "Stop it. I mean it, Sammy. Get off me," renewing his efforts to pull away but not wanting to hurt his brother.

Sam just held on the tighter, refusing to give up his 'prize' now he had finally finished warring with himself. He could not let this go any longer. He wanted Dean, had for so long and now had to do something about it before it was too late. If not, he would regret it for the rest of his life, whatever happened.

Dean's hands came up to hold on to his brother's arm across his chest and he spoke quietly to the face held next to his, chin on his shoulder. "Please, Sam. What ya doing?"

"I love you," simply stated.

"I know you do." This was making Dean so uncomfortable. This was not just Sam and his occasional insistence on hugging him, this was Sam wrapped around him, pressing into him in a so not right kind of way. "Now let me go," trying to sound light.

"No, you don't know," breathed into his ear. "I love you. Let me show you," and his hand moved down Dean's tense belly, his fingertips briefly playing in the line of hair, still soft from the shower, as he nuzzled in his neck. He gave quick kisses, nipping the skin gently, feeling his brother relax under his arms just slightly, his head falling back against his shoulder.

Swallowing hard, Dean spoke so quietly yet desperate, "Sam. No. Can't do this," tensing as the fingers reached under the towel to brush the top of his prick bringing an instant reaction. He turned his head away from those lips which were deepening their search on his skin, tears beginning to well under his closed lids. He was fighting yet another battle. He should stop Sam, his brother, but he craved his touch, his closeness, his companionship. He always had but not like this. This they could not do.

Dean was just so tired of fighting. He could hardly fight himself let alone Sam. He would not be able to fend his brother off if this is what he truly wanted. Sam was stronger than he was in so many ways. Physically Sam would be able to take him, not easily but he would still win. But mainly because Dean would not even be able to try to stop him. Dean could not deny Sam anything. He never could.

"Please," he begged, tears in his voice, "Don't do this."

"Why not?" Sam was getting angry. There was nothing wrong with this. They only had each other and if he failed, not for much longer. There was no reason way they should not take their closeness to the next level. He could feel Dean leaning back against him, he was not trying to break away from his hold, the words were just a formality, a pretence. He did not really mean them.

Dean felt like his heart was breaking. How could he make Sam understand? It was wrong and far too late. If Sam had come to him like this over a year ago or any time before, he would have opened his arms and anything else he wanted him to and done it gladly but it was just too late. "Because I don't want to," trying to put conviction behind his words.

"I don't believe you," and his hand slipped onto Dean's already responding prick, fingers curling around the shaft causing him to flinch and cry out at the same time.

"Don't do this to me. Please, Sam. I can't bare it."

Immediately he was released but only to be swung around to face his brother, hands gripping his shoulders then his face, one cupping his cheek, the other the back of his head. He could not bring himself to look at Sam but stared off, over his shoulder, focusing far past the violent wallpaper.

The anguish in his brother's voice had hurt Sam deeper than the possible meaning of the words. The rising anger proved momentary as, seeing the battle written clearly across his Dean's features, he knew it was not his touch that he could not bare but something else. He leant forwards to lay a kiss on those soft looking lips.

He got no response but would not be defeated. An arm around the broad back, he pulled Dean close, still cradling the back of his head and kissed him with more intent, trying to put in it all that he could not say. That he had always loved him, needed him, wanted him and how he felt so damn guilty for all the pain he had caused him. For being responsible for ruining his childhood, for causing their mother's death, for forcing them to a life of soldiers for a father who grieved his entire life since Dean was just four years old.

And now he was going to Hell for him and all he could do was show him just how much he loved him. Loved him for all the crap he had put up with and to be willing to go through. For all the future pain for, who knew how long. He knew Dean loved him. If he did not love him so much they would not be in this mess. He would not be about to lose him.

Sam knew what it was going to be like for himself thanks to that trickster and that is what _he_ could not bare. He could not bare the thought of that room with the one bed, the one chair and the lid still on the toothpaste.

Dean's hands were on his chest but the initial pushing had changed as his fists held onto Sam's shirt, twisting it as he sank into the kiss, as he was kissed, as he kissed back. Sam released his head to move to hold across his waist as he too fell. There was nothing in this world or beyond other than the feel of Dean kissing him back, of Dean parting his lips at the touch of his tongue, of delving into that moist warmth tasting of mint and then of his brother.

No! They should not be doing this! He had to be strong because obviously he could not expect Sam to willingly stop this. Breaking back from the kiss, from Sam, Dean pushed him away, managing to separate as his brother was taken by surprise.

No! 'Please don't stop now?' Sam screamed in his head. He stared at Dean with disbelief on his face then moved to him, reaching out to grab at him but Dean backed up until he ran out of room, hitting the wall with a panicked haunted expression that made Sam stop short, holding him by the arms but he would not let go. "Why won't you let this happen?"

Dean shook his head violently, "It's wrong."

"Why? It's just the two of us. No one else will ever know."

"We just can't do this. Sammy, please don't ask me to."

He let go of one of Dean's arms to run the back of his bent fingers down the side of his brother's face and did not miss the tilt into them. "What would be so wrong? I want you and I think you want me too?" The last was not really a question, it was obvious to both now how Dean's body had responded to match his own.

Dean did not answer, would not look at him. He moved closer but his brother just slumped against the wall. He cradled the sorrowful face, once more trying to encourage him to look at him. "I need you," making Dean wince.

"Not like this. You just think you do."

"I want you. That I know."

"You can't have me," looking up, his face twisting, "I'm spoken for, remember?" Reasoning and pleading had not worked. Maybe it was down to a good old argument followed by a knock down fist fight after all?

Sam could not believe what he had just heard. "You Bastard!" his grip getting painful. "How the Hell could I forget?" wanting at that moment to shake him, to knock him senseless. He fought to keep his temper, staring into the eyes which were just as intently staring back. He could see in the clear green gaze a longing for him to believe the bitter words. Dean was only trying to appear angry.

Sam relaxed his grip but, hand on that beautiful face, he did shake him, "Damn it, Dean! Why can't you just admit you want me? I know you do. I can see it from here." And he brushed the back of his other hand over his brother's prick making it push against the towel more.

"It's wrong,"

"Why?"

"It is,"

"But why?"

"For a start were brothers!"

"So what?"

"Brothers aren't supposed to fuck!"

"But who is there to even give a damn?"

"Me!"

"But you want me," once more proving his point, pressing against the cloth covered bulge.

Pushing his hand away, Dean tried to move from the wall. "Let me go," trying to sound angry. Surprisingly Sam did and moved back allowing him to move out into the room but would not let up.

"Please, Dean. I've wanted to touch you for so long but always thought you might hate me for it but not now. I need to touch you."

Dean scoffed at him, "I think you want to do a damn site more than that."

"Yes."

"Well, you can't!" sounding a lot angrier now and hoping Sam believed it. He was quickly running out of willpower. He could not look at his brother because all he wanted to do was step over there and enfold him in his arms and try to make all the hurt go away. Impossible he knew but he wanted to try.

"Dean. Tell me why not. Give me one real reason why you won't let me love you this way."

And it was not the anger but that quiet pleading that broke him, "Because I can't give you another reason to miss me when I'm gone." And Dean sank down to sit on the bed, a figure of total dejection. "It'll be hard enough for you to move on with your life as it is, but if you lose another lover …" he did not think Sam would be able to handle that again. He did not want him to become what he had been told about the time with the Trickster.

Immediately Sam was there, kneeling on the floor in front of him, taking the hands from his head into his own, pulling them unresistingly around his waist to his back as he knelt up. Then again, a hand cradling his brother's face, kissing his cheek, his neck then back to his cheek, quick, desperate, hard kisses and he felt Dean's hands clutch at his back, at his shoulders.

Dean held on for dear life. He had known for so long that Sam was his life and even after they came, the hounds that already he thought he could hear in the quiet of the night coming ever closer, and ripped him from his side, he would still only be able to think of one thing, Sam. His Sammy.

Sam tasted the tears on the warm flesh of Dean's face, thinking how much his brother detested this kind of 'opening up' but the man was crying, truly sobbing. All the year long pent up rage and desperation as one useless lead after another failed to find them, him, salvation. All the pain they had gone through their entire lives, the people they had lost, the heartache it had caused them, Dean wept for it all.

He wept for all he and Sam had endured and for all that he did not want this life to end because through it all, he had had Sam. Maybe not always next to him but always there. And Sam had had him but in a few days he was going to leave him. He had no choice that he could see and the thought of Sam having to get on and deal with the things they knew were out there without him broke his heart all over again.

Dean slid off the bed and held onto him so tightly and all Sam could do was to hold him back just the same. He would not let go until Dean had cried himself out which, he prayed, would be soon. His whole being screamed with rage that his brother was in such torment and once more it was all his fault.

'Why the fuck did you have to bring me back?' he thought, as he rocked the shuddering frame in his arms. He had asked that question silently a thousand times but he guessed he knew. He hated to admit it but it was true. Sam had always meant more to Dean than visa versa and knowing how desolate he had been without his older brother, he had an inkling of just how much worse it had been for Dean to be without his younger. So finally, he admitted that in his place, he would have done the same thing.

Slowly the tears subsided and so did Dean, collapsing to sit on the floor held in Sam's arms as exhaustion overcame him. Sam just continued to hold him. There was nothing more he could do. He would have to wait now to see what Dean would do, what he needed from him. He would not push him, not for what he wanted. Not now. Not after seeing him so destitute, so raw.

Placing a kiss to Dean's temple, Sam just held him. For as long as Dean would allow.

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End file.
